To become one
by Tick Tock
Summary: UPDATED 270505! Please review. AU Tale. Aeryn comes to terms with her feelings, now she must do the same with John's.
1. Pain

Disclaimer: Don't own Farscape. It's Rockne , Kemper & Co. who do. If I did own it, Claudia and Ben would be traipsing around fulfilling every shippers dreams. And we would have a 5th season.  
  
  
  
Summary: AU. Aeryn comes to terms with her feelings for John. Now she only has deal with his. if she can.  
  
  
  
Rating: PG. Although as we get more into the story it'll become much darker. So make it PG-13.  
  
  
  
Credit: It should go where it's due. The idea is all mine, but the inspiration was provided by Chris Claremont, Robert A. Heinlein, Frank Herbert, our own Yen Rug and Alan Moore.  
  
  
  
Shout outs: Major shout outs to my two beautiful betas: Amy and Kelly. You two ladies are the best.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
To Become... One  
  
ONE  
  
  
  
Frell!!  
  
  
  
It was too dark. Too quiet.  
  
  
  
Never had a room with both of them in it been as quiet as this one was now. He wasn't moving, he was barely breathing.  
  
  
  
It was happening again. Despite all her efforts, despite everything she'd done and gone through to prevent it, he was leaving her once more. If only it didn't feel as if she'd been the one doing the leaving this time.  
  
  
  
She knew every inch of the body lying in front of her. Intimate, would be a better word. Every cell of her body cried out for him, to hold him, and not let go. But that would have meant admitting He was still here.  
  
  
  
Damn his logic! She hadn't asked for this, hadn't asked for the changes he'd brought into her life just by being there. She didn't want these feelings, didn't want the doubts, could not handle the pain.  
  
  
  
What she wanted was Him. She wanted him back. And she could have him -- maybe. But she'd have to choose. She'd have to care.  
  
  
  
Frell!!  
  
  
  
In the end, pushing him away from her hadn't helped at all. He was still John. He still loved her. And she. oh dren!!  
  
  
  
When he announced his harebrained (now, where had that come from? oh.) plan to destroy Scorpius' research facility, she'd stood by his side on the grounds that it would have been something He'd have done. At least, that's what she told herself. Truth of the matter was she just could not bear for him to face danger on his own. She couldn't bear for him to go alone, period.  
  
  
  
/I'll protect him,/ she'd thought. It'd come back to haunt her as she faced her oldest friend and the pulse pistol in her hand. Chance, luck, the fates or a random accident had saved her life in that corridor, as the whole base fell to pieces around them.  
  
  
  
She'd been pretending. Life had thrown her/him/them a - what did he call it?- a 'curve ball' and she had coped with it the best she could. It'd been unfair. It'd been beautiful. It'd ended up horribly.  
  
  
  
John was fond of repeating an old Earth saying (actually to the point of driving anyone fahrbot, but she'd thought it was cute. Then.) "Here's to history repeating itself." It meant hope for second chances. Another go at something, someone. Well, she'd had her own miracle at the tip of her fingers. History had indeed repeated itself for her; she only needed to take the next step. Which she'd already done once.  
  
  
  
Only this time she didn't.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
Choosing to ignore all that she'd learned by his side, closing up on herself and reverting to an extreme version of her old self, she turned him away. And in that same instant, her pain reached a level totally unknown to her. During the following weeks, as she avoided his presence, gave him the silent treatment and played at pretending he wasn't Him, her 'mourning' became an exercise in self-inflicted pain which would have made any Scarran interrogator lick his ugly lips.  
  
  
  
It became a vicious circle. One she was unable to break, even though, with each passing day she questioned her resolve more and more. He was there. Everywhere. Around her. Inside her. She started spying on him. Watched him talk to himself, play and tie. The same eyes, different pains. One heart. And her at its center.  
  
  
  
/We will finish Scorpius,/ she told herself. She was becoming very good at this. /and then, we'll see./  
  
  
  
Only it hadn't gone as she had expected.  
  
  
  
No, it never did, did it?  
  
  
  
Talyn and Crais had died saving them all, and had taken the whole base with them in the process. John . John had arrived to Moya a different man. He fell silent. The human who wouldn't stop talking after the Aurora Chair, after Maldis and Scorpius, after a Scarran mind-frell of epic proportions, after the neuro-chip and Harvey. The human who'd become even more vocal if possible after being twinned and doubting of his own self. The human who wouldn't be quiet even when he was : choke : dying.  
  
  
  
He just -- stopped. Well, not entirely. He did keep repeating two phrases into the empty air: "Just like him. No better."  
  
  
  
And his eyes, his beautiful blue eyes, always shining with that spark that was uniquely Crichton. His eyes went dead.  
  
  
  
None of the others thought it would last long. Granted, the operation had ended the lives of several thousands of Peacekeepers. Maybe tens of thousands. But it was war. And at least many other thousands of PKs had managed to escape, which was far more than PK Command had allowed their victims on many different worlds. He'd get over it.  
  
  
  
She, on the other hand, had been too hurt to care.  
  
  
  
Ironic, wasn't it? After weeks of pushing him away and watching the hurt become deeper with every rejection, she had been hurt by his refusal to let her join him on his module so they could escape Scorpius' base together. Which he probably had done so as not to put her in even more danger. Always the thoughtful 'southern gent'.  
  
  
  
So when they all arrived aboard Moya, she headed straight for her quarters. And didn't see him again. Two days later she finally asked for him, and only got blank stares for an answer. Two days later, she asked again, and before D'Argo could silence her, Chiana retorted with a question of her own: "Do you care, now?"  
  
  
  
It hit her like an out of control dive into a type 6 atmosphere, the way she said it. "Please, tell me," was all she could answer.  
  
  
  
So they did.  
  
  
  
John Crichton, friend to all of them, lay on his bed, unmoving, two days hence. No one knew what was the matter with him. He had not been injured. He was not sick.  
  
  
  
It took two more days for them to figure out what the problem was, and two more to find a viable solution. That was yesterday. Today, she was afraid to feel, to think.  
  
  
  
She got up, undecided between the door and the bed where he lay. Damn it!!! This wasn't the time for doubt. There was a choice to be made. This time she couldn't count on any of the others to drag her into it. This time he wasn't around to reason it out. This time, it was not about going in and shooting and killing someone. This time she was all she had if she wanted to retain anything of her happiness.  
  
  
  
If .  
  
  
  
There was only one John Crichton, she knew that. She'd always known, just hadn't been willing to accept it. They had been happy once. They could be happy anew.  
  
  
  
She was going to bring John back.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
(Moya - six solar days ago)  
  
  
  
"John, c'mon, open the door." D'Argo had been on his way to the mess hall. He, as every other member of Moya's crew, was feeling surprisingly positive after ridding themselves of Scorpius. Well, maybe with the exception of Aeryn. But the former Peacekeeper had never been a paradigm of gaiety. And having the man she loved die in her arms only to find him traipsing around her own home, believing him to be unaware of the pain she'd gone through because of him, was not something to send anyone cart wheeling. Still, maybe with time...  
  
  
  
This was stupid. He'd been standing in front of Crichton's door for the past quarter arn trying to cajole him into joining him and the others for the mid day meal, and he hadn't even bothered to answer. What was wrong with the human? Of all of them, he should be the one feeling the happiest, what with his history with that misbegotten piece-of-dren hybrid. But they had been back half a day already, and they hadn't seen him even smile. Whatever problems he and Aeryn had with each other, their current situation was proof sufficient that anything could be overcome. Frell this! His friend was going to enjoy himself, even if he had to force him to. With that thought, he waved his hand over the opening panel and literally burst into the room, ready to pull John away from whatever self-pitying, brooding exercise he had enmeshed himself in.  
  
  
  
"John Crichton! Stop behaving like a romantic yotz!! I swear you are bigger pain in the eema than a k^g'osh-tentacled youngster before his tattooing day! Now come out of..." D'Argo stopped in mid-sentence as his eyes took in the scene in front of him. " What the frell?!! John, have you been drinking?" But even as he said it, he knew that was not it. There was no scent of intoxicants anywhere in the cell. However, Crichton was lying on his bed completely unmoving. His eyes were wide open. Too wide. The human's chest barely moved, and that was not good. When one breathes, his chest moves. If it doesn't, or not enough... He quickly activated his comm badge "Jool. Jool!! Come to Crichton's chambers. Run!!" /John, oh John, can't you be fine for once?/ His friend was not well at all, and he couldn't do a frelling thing. "Jool!!! You frelling Interion trelk. Where are you?!!"  
  
Ten microts later, John's cell was crowded not only with the ship's resident uppity physician, but with Chiana and Rygel as well, a look of concern on their faces.  
  
  
  
"What is it? What's wrong with him? Can you cure him? Is he awake? Well, princess, answer already. Are you going to help John, are you..."  
  
  
  
"Chiana, be quiet!!" D'Argo was not in the mood for one of the females' fights. Subduing his shaking voice, he turned to Jool. "How is he, Jool?"  
  
The beautiful Interion's nervousness was betrayed by the bright red hue of her curls. She could see the mixture of concern and helplessness in the Luxan's eyes, feelings she had trouble reconciling with his warrior's character. "I don't know what to tell you, D'Argo. Physically he's fine. There's no sign of infection, and he wasn't wounded. Everything reads normal, everything." She gave a small cry of exasperation, which had the others instinctively backing away from her, checking all their metallic possessions. Jool was not used to ignorance. Her only constants in this new life she'd been awakened to were her superior intellect and her reasoning prowess; if she did not take into account all of the fear and pain, taht is. But she couldn't fathom Crichton's condition and thus, was unable to help the only being of this dysfunctional gathering who recognized her talent and treated her with a minimum of respect.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
(Moya-six solar days ago)  
  
  
  
They had been standing there for almost an arn. Jool's expression said it all. She could not do a frelling thing, and John was. well, he was not moving and that wasn't normal.  
  
  
  
If only Zhaan was with them. She could have helped John.  
  
She was a bit baffled. They'd shared so many things over the past three cycles, both good and bad. More bad than good, actually. But all of it, every single experience, had brought them closer to each other.  
  
So how was it that none of the others could see what was wrong with Crichton, when it was so clear to her?  
  
  
  
Ever since she'd come aboard Moya, there'd been an affinity between her and the stranded "astro-nut". Although the human had shown definite interest in her attributes, nothing had and probably never would have happened between the two of them. Specially since Ms. Ice-for-blood had mellowed out and allowed John to become closer with her.  
  
  
  
But she and Crichton had developed a sibling-like rapport, and she had to admit she enjoyed their silly bickering and his overprotective attitude. It reminded her of the way it had been with Nerri.  
  
  
  
Maybe their peculiar relationship was the reason she somewhat instinctively knew what was wrong with Crichton. She was no Zhaan, but you had to be blind not to see the obvious.  
  
  
  
They had to tell her. They couldn't keep this from her. And besides, it'd do more damage than good if she was kept in the dark about John's condition. And if none of her obtuse companions was going to, she would. Someone had to look out for John.  
  
  
  
"Right." she said as she headed for the door. "I'm going to tell Aeryn."  
  
  
  
D'Argo put his arm across her chest, sending slight shivers up her spine as he made contact with her breasts (ooookay, now was not the time for this) and shook his head. "No, Chiana. Aeryn mustn't hear about John yet." He looked into her eyes, and held her gaze.  
  
  
  
She could see the pain in them. For John. For Aeryn. Maybe even. for her? But, Hezmana! He didn't know!!  
  
  
  
"Not until we know what is wrong with him."  
  
  
  
She looked up at him and bit back an acid remark, which would have only started another stupid argument between them. And they had no time for that. No matter how rewarding it could have been.  
  
  
  
"And when will that be, Ka D'Argo?" She saw him flinch imperceptibly at her formal use of his name. "How long will it take, princess?" she said turning to Jool. "Are the three of you willing to keep Aeryn in the dark, at the risk of losing both? I don't think so!" She ducked under D'Argo's arm and reached once more for the door. "If you'll excuse me," she called back over her shoulder "I've got me an ex- peacekeeper to find." Frell them if they thought she was going to allow their shortsightedness to.  
  
  
  
"STOP!! TURN AROUND!" She was unable to stop herself from obeying the authority that permeated from the voice calling her back.  
  
  
  
Chiana did indeed turn around, only to find her jaw had gone completely slack as she realized it had been Rygel who'd ordered her around. If she caught the mirroring looks of amazement on Jool's and D'Argo's faces, the irony was lost on her.  
  
With a deep, sadness-laden sigh, the Hynerian continued.  
  
  
  
"Child, you will not tell Aeryn anything concerning Crichton's condition. Not for the time being."  
  
  
  
This was not the Rygel she knew. What was going on?  
  
  
  
"I understand your concern, but you were not aboard Talyn. You did not watch John die. I did. I also saw what waiting for him to die did to Aeryn. And I will rot in Hezmana before I have to witness that again. I couldn't bear it. And I can't imagine how she could."  
  
  
  
Was Rygel getting emotional? Was that even possible?  
  
  
  
The little Dominar's head shook as if trying to dispel a particularly unpleasant memory. "So, until we know whether we are going to subject Aeryn to that emotional torture again, please refrain from saying anything to her."  
  
  
  
Rygel had said "please"? Unbidden? This was too weird.  
  
  
  
So befuddled was she, that she barely heard Rygel's last words.  
  
  
  
"She has suffered enough."  
  
  
  
As Rygel hovered in his throne, downcast, Chiana just stood there. She was speechless. The former Dominar was the last of her formerly reluctant companions she'd have expected to speak on a former Peacekeeper's behalf, much less in such an obviously caring manner.  
  
  
  
Apparently, both D'Argo and the Interion debutante were equally stunned by the former Dominar's speech. The human had the strangest effect on everyone he ran into, but having to die to elicit that kind of loyalty from a Hynerian.  
  
  
  
Chiana was aware of all three of her crewmates looking at her expectantly. She nodded her assent. "I won't tell Aeryn anything." She said. "For now." She added, making sure they understood she wasn't going to wait too long.  
  
  
  
Jool smiled at her. "We understand. That is all we are asking for."  
  
  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
(Moya - five solar days ago)  
  
  
  
The past few days had not been good. As commander Crichton would say, that was the understatement of the. "century", was it?  
  
  
  
Aaah, Commander Crichton. What with her son's demise and the current state John Crichton was in, with the subsequent effects on her crew, Moya was overcome with grief. The sadness she felt impregnated Pilot thoroughly. As aware as he was of all the goings-on within Moya, the Commander's sudden ailment had caught him completely by surprise. True, he and Moya had been otherwise preoccupied, but he couldn't stop thinking that maybe if he'd been a little more alert, he'd have noticed the human's peculiar behavior on time and the rest of his shipmates might have been able to help him, instead of just standing over him, puzzled and hurt, as they were doing now.  
  
  
  
Joolushko had insisted she could do nothing more for Crichton (not that she had actually achieved any results), not without his help. Now he was wondering if she had in fact meant his help or the human's - if she suspected the problem was not physical in its origin, but mental. Pilot had to admit that with all the unwanted intrusion upon his psyche that John had had to endure, it was surprising his sanity had not become unhinged a long time ago. But then again, he'd had something to live for before. Whereas now.  
  
  
  
Whatever the reasons for the Commander's collapse, he and Moya were in agreement to help the human return to his former self. They would rather be pestered by his infuriating Erpisms than seeing the suffering in his friends' eyes. Besides, John Crichton would have, had done nothing less for both of them. For all of them.  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
After two days of trying to wake him up or at least determine what was wrong with him, Jool had decided to push further in her research and try and check Crichton's psyche. Considering the amount of mind- frelling he'd been subjected to in the past three cycles, it was not impossible that his current bout with death was a physical reaction to a deeper problem. Goddess knew that with the Scorpius clone (Harvey, was it?) gallivanting inside the human's brain and the vestiges of Scarran interrogation, plus watching himself steal his lover away and then die, only to be pushed aside at her return like last week's foodcubes. if all of that didn't constitute enough of a cause for a total synaptic breakdown, well, they might as well let Chiana at him. The little tralk seemed to think she could do so much better than her at curing John. Why, only an arn ago she had returned to her. Zhaan's. oh frell, THE med lab only to remind her it had already been two solar days and she hadn't woken Crichton up. As if she didn't know!!!  
  
  
  
Arrrgh, but that grey piece of Nebari gutter-eema was infuriating. Even more so when she was right. She had to find a way. Anything. /Come on Joolushko, think outside the frelling quaalduur. You used to do it enough in school./ Every problem had an exponential number of answers for every different angle it presented. It was only a matter of finding that one piece of information that connected them. She was a graduate in seven different scientific fields. She had boasted her intellectual superiority to this human enough times. She was not going to fail him now. /Think it through./ She continued berating herself. /Find the connection. There's a common link to this, there has to. wait./ She almost had it, she could feel it. /What did Chiana say? What was it that Crichton held above everything else, his one constant.?/  
  
Oh dren. It was so obvious. Why hadn't she thought of it before? She'd been so obsessed with finding a logical reason for the human's condition. She should already know there was nothing logical or normal where ever John was concerned. "Pilot," she said tapping her comms to life. " I need your help."  
  
  
  
***  
  
(Moya- four solar days ago)  
  
"... so what I need is for you to convince her. Do you think you can do that?"  
  
Chiana looked the little scientist-turned-courtesan-turned-physician over once more. "Are you absolutely sure about this? I mean, it sounds farfetched even to me." She couldn't help it. She liked the Interion well enough, but as far as she was concerned Jool still needed to prove herself to all of them. "Look princess, what you're saying is extreme even by our frelled up standards. Not to mention the fact it's just sooo much like all of our favourite acquaintances' torture methods when it comes to John it's scary." /How in Hezmana can I stay so drad?/ She kept on. "You can see why I worry, don't you?"  
  
The unruly mass of bright red locks populating the Interon's head rose and fell at the rythm of her slow, deep breaths. Chiana was convinced she'd see smoke coming out from in between the crimson curls soon enough. She was obviously trying very hard to control herself; if John's situation had not been as serious as it was, the Nebari would have found the argument very entertaining. As it was, though, she just wanted to understand what Jool wanted to do and why.  
  
"Look Chiana, as far as I can discern, Crichton's current predicament is of his own doing. And don't even pretend to argue with me because unless I am wrong, you were the first and only one to notice what took me the better part of three solar days to grasp." This was it really. Her last ploy to assure the little tralk's cooperation. Appealing to her ego. She couldn't blame her for being overprotective of those two, particularly of John, but he just didn't have the time for all of his friends to second guess each other. Second guess her (she couldn't keep some bitterness from creeping into her thoughts). And if John was running out of time, so was the other member of their reel^tal`een crew. The only one who truly mattered out of all of them, because in the end she might just be the cure for his ailment; but she was definitely the cause.  
  
The young Nebari had a very un-Nebari look of concentration on her face as she sized her up. But with a mixture of resignation and... could that be trust in her eyes? She keyed her comms and raised her voice to call "Aeryn, could you join me in Pilot's chamber in thirty microts? I need your help with something." Letting the strap of her bodice fall back on her shoulder she leveled her eyes with Jool's. "For their sake, princess, I really hope you know what you're doing." Chiana turned to head towards the most surreal moment in her life. "Oh, and D'Argo?" She called over her shoulder. "If you even think I am going to face Aeryn alone you are sadly mistaken. Come on, big boy." To her credit, she didn't turn to watch the play of emotions crossing her former lover's face. Such a pity, though. A very afraid Luxan is something very rare to behold.  
  
(Pilot's chamber - two and a half arns later)  
  
Pilot's chamber looked even more subdued than usual, if that was possible. And what an amazing feat it was, taking into account the amount of decidedly hostile DRDs currently within the cavernous room, the dejected looking peacekeeper slumped on the floor and her three very upset friends standing by her.  
  
To say the least, their conversation had not gone well. But then again, that came as no suprise to D'Argo.  
  
When he and Chiana had gotten to Pilot's, Aeryn was already waiting for them. They both had steeled themselves for the upcoming conversation. It was going to become heated very fast. What neither of them had been ready for, were the Sebacean's first words. "Where is Crichton?"  
  
Maybe it was the halfhearted tone of her question. It may have been the stress of the past few days. Perhaps it was just some damn female thing he had no clue about. Whatever the reason, and before he could do anything about it, Chiana openned her mouth and started her own little version of Hezmana. In John's words: the dren hit the pan.  
  
***  
  
You could hear the sarcasm drip from her as the young Nebari faced Officer Sun, her voice on a constant rise. "Oh, is it Crichton now? It was John two solar days ago? What did he do to you now, Officer? Did he not leave you alone enough? Should he leave Moya altogether? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM HIM!!!?".  
  
I have to say I have never seen Officer Sun as pale as at that moment, as she rcoiled from Chiana's words. But even so she asked again, her question barely escaping from inbetween gritted teeth. "Chiana. Where. Is. John.?"  
  
It was a very much subdued Nebari which answered her. "Do you care?" She said looking into Officer Sun's eyes.  
  
"Chiana... please." And with that one word, two cycles of animosity, distrust and jealousy melted away, leaving only two females hurting for one they cared very much about. I sometimes wonder if I will ever understand...  
  
***  
  
TBC 


	2. Hope

OK, boys and girls. Here's part 2 of the insanity. I know it's taking me a looong time and this is way too short, but I'm swamped by school (and a teensy bit of writer's block). So bear with me and wish me inspirated writing for the weekend.  
  
To become one pt.II  
  
Hope  
  
(Pilot's Den – four solar days ago)  
  
Aeryn's crumpled figure was disheartening. No matter how much she wanted to hate her at this moment. /Face it Chi, you're a big softee. chuckle John's told you often enough./ The lithe Nebari turned halfway towards her former lover, her eyes making her request unnecessary. To her relief, he put no resistance.   
  
"I will go check on Jool. See that she has everything needs to get her fahrbot plan to work." /Thank you Chiana/ He hoped she knew how grateful he was. With that last thought, he left the two young females to come to an understanding.  
  
***  
  
Being froward had never been a problem for Chiana. As a matter of fact, that particular trait had saved her well gromed eema on more than once. It was honesty she had a problem with. Honesty implied laying down your barriers. Honesty meant leaving yourself open to being hurt. But John had shown her a different way. He'd taken her snurching little hands in his and taken her down a road where honesty and trust earned you friends, a bsurrogate brother, a family.   
  
Trust a hopelessly lost alien male to teach her to open her heart every bit as wide as she'd learnt to open her legs. Although she doubted John had seen it that way at all.  
  
Be that as it may, she now had a former peacekeeper to deal with. And an emotional wreck of one on top of it all, for Cholokk's sake. It was never easy, never. /How do I make you understand Aeryn?/ Well, never mind that. She'd make do and that was that. She shure as Hezmana was frozen over was not going to achieve anything by watching her shipmate brake down. /What did he see in you, to choose you over me?/ And with that last thought she set on to do what maybe no one else in their little part of the frelling Universe could.  
  
***  
  
TBC 


	3. Caring

Well, here's what the muse brought over. The story seems to be taking a life of its own and claiming more time and space than I originally intended.   
I just hope you all like it. Please, send some feedback my way.  
  
To become one pt.III  
  
Caring  
  
(Pilot's Chamber - a few moments after TBO2)  
  
Pilot's hushed voice carried over to them. 'Officer Sun?'  
  
'Aeryn?' Chiana edged closer to her prostrate friend. Yes she thought of the sebacean fem as a friend. Her friend. But this whole situation was so infuriating. John had been hurt by Aeryn before, and he just took it. Any other male in the galaxy would have either turned around and told her to get frelled or slapped the former PK silly; at the risk of their own life, true, but she had it coming.   
  
'Aeryn?' Moya's symbiote was obviously worried.  
  
Not Crichton though. No, he had these frelling romantic notions she hoped were not a trait of his species or they would all be in far deeper dren than they thought. Because John just let Aeryn trample over him out of some deep feeling of guilt. As if HE was responsible for all that had gone wrong in the life of this dark haired beauty she had absolutely no hope of replacing in his heart.   
  
'Please, Aeryn.' The harmonics seemed to dwindle and die in accordance to the chamber's lights. No answer.  
  
Thoughout the cycles, she had seen these two fight and hurt each other over the most insignificant things, only to dump everything else and rush into the mouth of Cholok himself to save the other. Many a time sacrifying themselves for the other. But more often than not, it was John the one with the answer. John the one with the time for listenign. John who followed Aeryn around so she would 'open-up'. And inevitably, it was John who was hurt by Aeryn and her irrational fears of emotions. Emotions for the misplaced and starry eyed human.   
  
If she had a credit for everytime Moya and her crew could have avoided trouble, pain and misery if only one or the other had opened their mouths and just said something. After all the cycles knowing John, she had a finer appreciation for relationships, but my the troubles a timely frell took care of!   
  
'Aeryn, please look at me.' It was no use. She extended her left hand to touch Aeryn's shoulder. The dark clad figure racked by her silent sobs. How was she to reach her?!   
  
*** 


	4. Fluids

You asked for it, here it is. Although I seriously doubt this is what any of you was expecting. So please take it all with a grain of salt and let me now what you think.  
  
Rating: PG-17  
  
TBO pt.IV  
  
Fluids.  
  
(Pilot's Chamber - a few microts after TBO3)  
  
A veritable swarm of DRDs surrounded the hunkering bodies of the little Nebari and Officer Sun. For once, it wasn't Pilot's doing.   
  
/Yes Moya, I know./ The waves of worry had been washing over him for the past weeken in an ever increasing spiral. /I feel her pain as well. But she will not listen to us. Or anyone else for that matter. It is as if she wanted to open up one microt then retreated into a shell of her own the next. I fear I am having the same success as young Chiana./ Then again...  
  
***  
  
'I love sex.'   
  
/What?!! Wait a micr.../ 'Aeryn?' She had given in finally. Watching Aeryn suffer, holding her while she was keening, had broken down her already meager defenses and Chiana joined the flow of tears. But this she wasn't expecting. 'Aeryn what did you say? 'Cause I thought I heard...'  
  
Aeryn'voice was stronger this time. Resigned. ? 'I love sex. That is how all of this started.' Her face turned upwards to meet Chiana's incredulous eyes. 'I am as female as you Chiana. Only not as obvious about it.'  
  
Oh, this was good. She had no idea where it had come from, and meeting Pilot's eyes across the chamber Chiana was sure neither did he, but this was way too good. She hoped he had the sense to record it.  
  
'What? You think because I was a Peacekeeper I was less inclined to have a good time with a male? Or more than one?' The Nebari's eyes just grew wider and wider with each declaration. But Aeryn seemed not to notice the reason behind it. 'It was because I was a Peacekeeper that I valued every encounter. And actively looked for the oppotunity to recreate. I loved it. Relished it. But that's all it was. Sex. And then it all changed.' The wariness that had invaded her eyes before seeped through once more. Chiana listened on, mesmerized. 'An inferior species crashed into my life turning everything upside down. I was declared irreversibly contaminated and set apart from my own race forever! I would never know the touch of another Sebacean male again. That, I resented very much.'   
  
Her breathing was becoming more labored as she reminisced. Aeryn took a deep breathand cosed her eyes, trying to calm her frayed nerves. After a microt, she opened her eyes again and continued. 'But John was here. He was always around. It seemed as if everything revolved around him one way or the other. Whether good or bad, he was at the center of things at all times. Amazingly enough, he came through it all with ease. He laughed for the most ridiculous reasons and faced every ordeal, every setback with a smile on his lips. And I couldn't help but notice how much he resembled a Sebacean male. He was alien, to be sure. But he looked so Sebacean. So much like home. And I was so lonely.' Her voice faltered a little, but she kept on going. 'It took me some time to accept the idea of recreation with him. You know what Peacekeepers think of inter-species mating. But I needed a male. And there was no way back for me. So I made up my mind to approach him about it. Then Gilina showed up. And I knew it wasn't about sex anymore.' Aeryn seemed calmer now. There was a rueful smile on her lips. That, at least, was something. Chiana breathed easy for the first time in she didn't know how many arns. She sat back and let the former PK lean on her. She wanted to know what had brought this confession on, but at the same time she very much wanted to hear it all. Smutty details included.  
  
Aeryn gathered her freefalling hair in a lose braid before continuing. Her hands still trembling occasionally. She resumed her tale as she finished tucking a few stray hairs behind her ears. Something John normally... /No, don't go there yet./ Thought Chiana. /Give her time./  
  
***  
  
As Officer Sun's deeptoned voice carried over to Pilot, he couldn't help but wonder if, throughout the cycles, they had come to know Aeryn at all. Every word she uttered, every moment remembered, it seemed to be someone elses life. Commander Crichton surely had, but then again, Comander Crichton had died. And the one left to them all had had too much happen to him, and too much rejection from the object of his desire to truly know her as he should have. And now Pilot was not sure Crichton would ever get the chance he so desperately wanted.  
  
***  
  
'You see Chiana, recreating is not about feeling. It's about relieving tension. About pleasure. Adrenaline. Recreation is more often than not fast and violent. You do it and that's it. So you can imagine my surprise when I felt jealous of Gilina. I didn't even know what jealousy was let alone how to cope with it. I only knew seeing them together made the pit of my stomach burn and made my whole body tense inmediately. Not only that, but I felt an irrational rage at John. He was the cause of that feeling. I didn't know how but he was to blame. So I acted accordingly. That, in a not-shell as he would say, is my story with John.   
  
Through Gilina, Namtar, that time in the Flax,' /The flax? What happened in the flax?/ Chiana's mind was reeling. It had all gone absolutley not as she intended. Now she was learning all this about the mindfrell relationship of all relationships, when all she wanted was to help these two to actualy have a relationship. But first they had to save John from himself. 'Katralla... I was even jealous of you at one point. Oh, how I wanted to space you for trying to frell MY male. chuckle All those times and more, I felt desire, jealousy, lust. All directed at John. Eventually we started to get closer to each other. How he ever had the patience to stand my constant advancing and retreating I'll never know. There a few times when we almost acted upon those feelings, but through it all John kept asking me what did I want. And making very clear that he wouldn't be satisfied with sex alone. Of recreation there was not even mention. We did have one precious moment... but it got all twisted by mistrust, and hurt. That all changed when John got twinned.'   
  
This was all a little too much fro Chiana. She came here to convince Aeryn to help them bring John back, not to play Zaahn to the emotionally unstable Sebacean. But she had the feeling interrupting her right now would only cause more problems. Frell!! Why couldn't anything ever go the way they planned?  
  
Aeryn's voice brought the young Nebari out of her reverie. 'It wouldn't have mattered, you know? No matter which John had come aboard Talyn, it would all have played the same. I was ready. I was ready for anything to happen. Anything. You remeber what you said to me a few solar days before we parted? You were right. I needed a good frelling.' Chiana's jaw dropped so fast the only thing preventing it from falling on Moya's floor was the fact it was still attached to her. Oblivious to her stricken face, Aeryn plowed on, her eyes gleaming. 'And he gave it to me. Oh, did he ever. Two cycles of pent up fluids, passion and total consuming lust went out of the air lock the moment I gave in to him. he ws so good. And it didn't matter one drannit. What did matter were his arms around me. His breath on my neck. The steady rythm of his heartbeat during the sleep cycle. He showed me what love was. He taught me how to love. And I learnt to be loved.'  
  
/Oh, goddess./ To say Chiana was uncomfortable would be an understatement. She wanted to sink through the leviathan's floor to some dark, murky corner of the sentient ship. /Where are the Peacekeepers when you really need them?/ Cycles running from them and not a decent Marauder in sight now that she could use one. Figures. She didn't even dare to look at Pilot. SHE was scandalized. And she'd done everything possible with her body at least once. Pilot must be hiding beneath his op-table by now.  
  
Aeryn was a nova by now. Nothing could stop her tirade. 'What the frelling human didn't teach me was to cope with the loss of him. Loss wasn't covered in his crash course on emotions. Even my mother's death was nothing compared to the feeling of utter desperation and loss which filled me as he died. Because when I thought she had died, He was by my side to support and guide me through it.' She was trembling again. But Chiana suspected the reason was much more visceral than the previous attack had been. 'No. We didn't cover loss. The rythm of life in Talyn was so frantic we never had time to dwell on the deeper feelings. He taught me about multiple orgasms and oral sex. I learnt to crave his touch as he petted me. I learnt to listen to his pleasure and mapped every tiny metrac of his body. I discovered the joy of simultaneous climax and to look into his soul as he bared it when he let himself melt into me. But I didn't learn about loss. Because we couldn't fathom losing one another. I couldn't.' Aeryn had gradually become more subdued and once more fell silent. As if her strength had left her.  
  
/Now./ Thought Chiana. /But how do I tell her? Never mind. It can't be that difficult./ But before she could open her mouth to speak, Aeryn's voice filled the chamber once more.  
  
'The same way I couldn't face him when I returned. I wasn't strong enough. He was there in front of me and all I wanted was for him to take me in his arms and hold me. I wanted him to frell me to the point of exhaustion, where I wouldn't see his face again. But all I could see was His face, feverish with radiation, slowly losing all vitality. It would have felt like frelling a corpse. how sick is that? I needed to sort myself out. They both melted in my mind to form only one image. And that was the problem. Because if they were the same, which of course they were, I could never feel his touch on me again. I would never be held in is arms. And I so wanted to be held, Chiana.' Aeryn had begun sobbing again, letting the tears trail her cheeks as she continued talking.   
  
'I want him back, Chiana.' By this time Aeryn was practically wailing. She was crying so hard. 'I want to be loved by him again. Please tell me what is wrong with him. What can we do?' Her eyes told of a desperate hope. Clinging to any and all possibilities. Drawing her in. Hezmana, she didn't even have to ask or cajole her. Was this how John did it? Just listening? Amazing.  
  
Now it was her turn to be supportive. 'Aeryn, he never stopped loving you.' Chiana new Aeryn by now, and did not believe for a moment she ahd thought that love lost. But now was not the time to dwell on that. 'Look, Jool has found out what the problem is. And there might be a cure. But we need your help for it to work. No, John needs you. Will you help?' She had her arms around Aeryn by now. At once supporting her tall frame as well as her now fragile self. She kept her eyes on those of her Sebacean friend. If she wasn't a friend after this, when would she be? She saw the resolve come back slowly into them. Felt the strength return to her stance. A determined look came over her features as she stood erect and, to Chiana's surprise, hugged her.   
  
'Let's go find Jool.' She said. And with a nod towards Pilots towering figure, they left the chamber.  
  
***  
  
A myriad of emotions swam over Pilot's mind as he commiserated with his ward. /Yes, Moya. I do believe there may still be a chance for John./  
  
***  
  
TBC 


	5. Twist

Hello folks, once again into the fold!

After a good long while my inspiration is back and I'm looking forward to finnishing this here baby and continuing the story as I envisioned. So, lean back and let me know what you think.

**To Become… One: V**

It was a very simple plan, really. Simple the way their life was simple. Not at all. In fact, what it most resembled, as Chiana hadn't doubted in telling her, was what every freak John had met this side of the universe had tried to do or done to him. Mind frell John Crichton.

Aeryn didn't think she was ready for this. Too bad she did not have an option if she truly wanted the man she loved back amongst the living.

The Interion had been quite explicit, taking into account she had never actually performed or even tried something as fahrbot as her proposed procedure. Why would anyone want to force their consciousness into another being in order to extract information or the very self of the invaded? Oh, right, _anyone_ had not had the pleasure of running into Scorpius.

It all boiled down to this; having spent the last several monens hearing all about their doomed escapades aboard Talyn (she had the Dominar to thank for it, surely), Jool proposed to duplicate the Stykera's attempt to impersonate a Pilot. Of course, it was a tad more complicated than all that.

Back when they were running from her mother, Stark had connected himself to Talyn in Pilot fashion in order to lure the young hybrid away from a very lethal encounter with the heart of a star. Their stalwart, bodice-clad, self-proclaimed genius insisted the only way for them to recover John's consciousness was to emulate their departed comrade and use the symbiotic connection of a Pilot with a Leviathan, but with a twist. Figures, every one of their plans had to have a "twist". Usually the one which sent the whole plan to Hezmana and forced them to fall back on Plan B. Improvise. It'd be funny if it wasn't tragic.

This time around, the proposed twist required someone other than the afflicted to connect themselves as well, in order to act as the conduit through which John Crichton, human, could anchor himself to reality and climb back out of what ever self imposed tabula rasa he now dwelled. Of course, Aeryn was the only option. She wouldn't have it any other way.

The whole thing was quite ironic, really.

All of John's problems (if you ignored the fact the man was stranded who knew how many solar light-years away from his solar system who knew in what direction) had started the moment the human decided to follow his then-unfathomable code of honour (more likely his undeclared love for the raven haired ex-Peacekeeper) and infiltrated a secret Gammak Base coming face to face with the insane, misbegotten half-breed that was Scorpius. That little adventure to save the life of someone who at the time considered him inferior and defective, had earned him a series of sessions at mercy of Leather Face's pride and joy, the Aurora Chair. Why waist bodily moisture and fuel on conventional torture when you could peel away a person's memories and inflict an equal or worse amount of pain at the same time? And all at the turn of dial. Your krindars at work, folks.

Scorpius, the bane of their existence, had introduced her gorgeous human to the wonders of invasive explorations of the mind. Because of her. How fitting that it would be she who invaded John's mind this time, the woman who had been the cause of his first glimpse of what passed for bedside manners in this corner of the universe. No matter how noble her intentions were. No matter how much she loved him.

However, both Chiana and Jool were right. The one who had induced Crichton to retreat from reality was the only one who could, hopefully, bring him back. And Aeryn Sun was that certain somebody.

TBC


End file.
